Don't Pass Me By
by AralynnEvenstar
Summary: A three part look into the beginning of a relationship between The Lone Wanderer and Charon. Rated M. Strong sexual content. Complete.
1. Good Night

Don't Pass Me By

Rating: M

Spoilers: Broken Steel ending

Disclaimer: I own none of this, characters or settings. It's all owned by Bethesda. I'm not making a profit, this is purely for fun.

A/N: This takes place a while after the main story line. The Lone Wanderer has held Charon's contract for more than two years. The story title and chapter titles are all the titles to Beatles songs from their White Album.

Good Night

The first time we had sex, I was on my hands and knees in my bedroom in Megaton. He was grabbing my hips so tightly, half of the time he had me lifted up off the bed, holding me as he thrust into me. I barely noticed. The night had started normal enough. I made dinner and as I was walking it to the table, I tripped on the uneven flooring and got Instamash and noodles all over my shirt and pants, the heat of both burning me, even through my layers. "Damn." I didn't hesitate as I stripped the soiled clothes off until I was just down to my underwear, then it occurred to me that he was _right there_. My companion of over two years just paces away. Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw him give me a heated stare, his eyes on my exposed skin, and my heart leapt to my throat. Even if it had only lasted a split second, it didn't matter because I had wanted to see that look for so long now and it was making me shiver despite the sweat peppering my face. It had taken me months of dropping hints and "accidently" brushing against him, hoping he would slip and I would see something. But, if he knew or if I had affected him, he never let on. I had been starting to lose hope, now there it was. "Can you help me clean some of this up?" I bit my lip as my voice came out unsteady, nervous, and threatened to betray everything I had been thinking. I couldn't afford that then or he might stay where he was and I would miss the opportunity. Who knew when I would get another? When he got near me, I turned, grabbed him, and kissed him. He didn't kiss back, at first, but then I took one of his hands and put it on my bare waist and it was like I flipped a switch. We kissed until we were breathless and then he carried me up to my bedroom as I trembled in his arms.

I let him handle me, moving me to my stomach as he settled in behind me. I wanted to protest the view, but I was like putty in his hands. I felt his erection brush up against my thigh and I shot to my hands and knees, desperate to feel even more of it. It seemed like minutes—no, hours. Maybe eternity before he finally pushed inside of me. The burning sensation and pain seemed insignificant compared to what he was doing, slowly rocking against me, the roughness of his skin accentuating each trust of his hips.

I wanted nothing more than to turn around so I could see his face and kiss his dry lips again. I wanted this so badly, I ached for it, my fingertips twitching and clenching the threadbare sheets. He grunted behind me, raw, unbridled noises that made my heart swell and I couldn't stop his name from escaping my lips.

"Charon." As I said it, I felt his hands grip my hips tighter and he bent forward to place a small kiss between my shoulder blades. The skin where his lips met erupted in goose bumps, the pleasure of it tingling all the way down my spine and into that cluster of nerves between my legs. A few more of his thrusts and I felt as though something inside me burst, hot and cleansing, white behind my eyes. It rolled to the tips of my toes like waves and I was lost in the wake. My knees and arms faltered, but he held me in place, not letting me fall. I was vaguely aware of the sound of my voice shouting his name over and over again, until my lips were quiet and numb.

He finished with a moan and a shudder and I could have sworn I heard my name somewhere in there, but he pulled away, his warm hands leaving me, and I knew I must have been mistaken. He dressed in silence with his back to me. I wanted to reach out to him and stop him from leaving, but a part of me worried that, for him, it had just been about sex. So I let him go and gently rubbed my fingertips along all the places he had touched me, until I fell asleep.


	2. Why Don't We Do It in the Road

Why Don't We Do It in the Road

I waited three days to ask him about why he had left.

Things had been normal afterward and I felt the hurt it caused deep inside my stomach, knotting my guts. He was as stoic as usual, and being unable to know what he was thinking bothered me even more than ever. All I could think about was him touching me and leaving me. Did he turn me from him so he didn't have to look at me? Did he think I had forced him because I was his employer? Did he think about it as much as I did? Through his shock at my curiosity, he said, "I made it so you had to look at me as little as possible, so you could enjoy it. I thought that would be what you wanted."

I explained that the entire time I was staring at my wall, sprawled in front of him, I was imaging his face anyway and wanted nothing more than to curl my arms and legs around him and hold him. He wasn't sure how to respond to that, afraid of it almost, so I just grabbed him again and kissed him.

The second time we had sex was against the wall of my kitchen. I could feel the metal biting into me, my shoulder blades scraping across nails, and I knew we were making noises that people outside could hear, but I didn't care. I wouldn't stop for anything, not even the feeling of blood slowly trickling down my back. In that moment, all that mattered was the man in front of me who was touching me and making me feel really alive for the first time in the Wasteland. The man who saved my life from countless threats, who walked across the desert and helped me escape from Raven Rock, the man who stepped inside the Purifier at the Jefferson Memorial and gave clean water to the Wasteland without me even asking him to. He was the only man I had longed to touch until the desire burned like whisky in my veins. Now I had gotten my wish, to wrap my limbs around him and touch him everywhere at once. To relish in the contrast between skin and muscle across his arms and torso. He was so _close_, yet not close enough. Somehow I still felt there were miles between us.

Every time he hit just the right spot, raw flesh on sensitive skin, I would tighten my legs around his waist and he would growl into my ear. The vibrations of it left me nearly weeping. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck, even in the heat of the daytime. My hair fluttered with each exhale and tangled on my ear. When I felt that tickle build and threaten to spill over, I pushed it back, wanting to stay coherent. I looked up to watch him, to study him in this moment so I could see him with his guard down. Other than kissing him, I had never gotten this close to his face before. I could trace the blue veins that weaved around his jaw with my fingers, and I could see the color of his irises hidden beneath the film of eyes. He wasn't looking at me. His gaze was down, watching where we were pressed together, my smooth breasts against his ruined chest. The contrast was perfect. I wanted to tell him to look me in the eyes, so I could say all the things to him that I wanted without having to speak, but I couldn't find the words within my lust clouded brain.

"Charon…" I pleaded. He didn't avert his gaze, just quickened his pace. He finished as I held him, stroking the intact skin at the back of his neck. I listened very intently for my name on his lips again, but I still couldn't be sure.

He rested like that for a moment, his pulse wild against me, before he stepped back and set me down the half a foot to my feet. I knew the blood on the wall from my back was visible and my flesh stung where it had been ripped open, but he looked at it with an expression I had never seen on him before, something akin to grief, and he turned away without a word. I knew that no matter how bad my back looked right now, it would never look like his did. It was my first good look at him in the light. All of the bare muscle shifted as he moved, stiffened occasionally as though he could feel my eyes on him. He started to collect his clothes and I felt my heart drop. It landed like a hunk of metal in my chest, the weight of it dragging me down to the floor, where I watched helplessly as he retreated from me again. I wanted to yell at him, scream at him to stop, but when I opened my mouth, my voice came out so soft I was afraid he wouldn't hear me.

"Please look at me."

His back straightened, hands frozen in the act of turning his shirt right side out, and he slowly turned around. "What is it that you need?"

"I need you to look at me. Please. I just want to see you."

"Why would you want to do that?" His voice was even, as if he hadn't just been fucking me against the wall. He wasn't even out of breath any more while I was still breathing heavily.

"Why? I thought I told you why."

"You said you wanted to wrap your arms around me."

"Yes, because I want you. When I'm with you, I want to _be_ with you, not close my eyes or look away, or have you hide from me. You're IT for me. You're not a stand-in. It's your name that comes out of my mouth, isn't it?" I could feel tears stinging my eyes, threatening to spill over as my body tensed up, waiting for his rejection.

He stood in silence for a few moments as he contemplated my words, eyes boring into mine: his face expressionless. "I do not understand how you can look at me when we're doing that, let alone touch me."

"Because you're you. I don't care how you look. It doesn't bother me. When I look at you, I see, _you_, and when you're touching me, I want to see you and know that you're the one doing it."

"You mean you…"

"Yes. I _like_ it."

"Oh… You're bleeding." I could see his features soften into concern. Barely enough for anyone else to see, but enough for me to notice after so long together.

"I know. It probably looks worse than it is, honestly."

He cleaned and bandaged my back as the sun set, venting lines of dusty sunlight through the cracks in the walls.


	3. Happiness is a Warm Gun

A/N: For disclaimers, see the 1st chapter

Happiness is a Warm Gun

"I thought for a while you couldn't feel _that_ because we never spoke about it, not in the two years we've been together. Then I thought maybe it was just me, but even if you didn't feel that way about _me_, you never showed any sign of feeling it for anyone _else_ either. And I worried that maybe the people who taught you to be the mercenary you are had forced that out of you. Forbade you from feeling it."

"No, they did not. It just never struck me as a possibility until you started touching me all the time. You have been the only employer to touch me because you wanted to, not because you had to if I was injured. I was worried if I showed you any interest beyond being friendly, you would sell my contract. It pained me to think of being employed to anyone but you. I've never had an employer treat me like a person before. Sometimes you even look at me like I'm your equal."

"First of all, you are my equal. Just because you have a contract doesn't make you a tool or a slave. You're a person. A _good_ person, who deserves for people to treat him as such. Second of all, I could NEVER sell your contract, Charon. Look at me. Never. Not after what we've been through together. It's only been a few years, but you've seen me at my worst and at my best and you stood by me through both. I know it's in your contract to be loyal, but you went above and beyond, fighting demons that were never yours to fight. I promise you that I would never willingly give you up."

"Thank you."

"Now I'm not even sure what I would do without you. And not just because you're a good bodyguard, but because you've become a part of me. I think I have you under my skin now, always right there below the surface. I would have to…carve you out of me to get rid of you."

"So, you are saying you like having sex because you're attracted to me?" His voice was flat and disbelieving.

"No, I'm saying that sex is too simple of a term for what we do and what it means to me."

"Then you have feelings for me."

"I do."

"Since when?"

"Since you stepped into that Purifier over a year and a half ago. The only thing that separated us was that pane of glass and it killed me to think that if something went wrong, I still couldn't get to you. I knew the radiation wouldn't hurt you, but I could feel my heart struggle to keep beating until you were out, safe and sound."

"I was the obvious choice. If I had not gone in, I was sure you would and I could not let you die when I could help it. Would you like to know when I knew?"

I paused. "Of course I would."

"When I woke up in that damn cave and realized the Enclave had taken you. After I found out where their base was, I didn't sleep or stop walking until I found you. And I killed everything that got in my way. I don't think I would have stopped looking, even if it took me weeks, until I found you, dead or alive."

"Oh, Charon. Wow. I had no idea."

"Because I never told you."

"So you…have feelings for me too?"

"Yes."

"Do you feel this way because of your contract?"

"I do not think so. My contract entitles you to my services in combat. Everything else is my choice."

"What does that say about our relationship? Employer and employee or man and woman."

"It says piece of paper or not, I would do anything to keep you safe."

"What if someone got a hold of your contract?"

"They won't. We have it safely hidden."

"Yeah, but what if they _did_?"

"Then my head would say obey, but my heart would say to fight it."

"Could you?"

"I do not know. I look at your face and I feel like I could do anything."

"I was thinking the same thing about you."

"Why me? Why not someone _normal_?"

"There's no such thing, Charon."

"I know you understand what I meant."

"I don't know. No one else ever caught my eye. Like you, I never thought about the possibility of anything until I found you. I guess, in a way, that makes you my normal."

The third time we had sex, we didn't have sex because sex wasn't the right word for it. He had scooped me up and brought me up to my bedroom, but this time he laid me down on my back. Where the other two times had been loud and intense, this was a quiet type of powerful. Slow so we could keep at it forever. With each climax, I could see bombs behind my eyelids and my skin was so hot, I thought it would peel off and we would look the same. If I hadn't disarmed the bomb myself, I would have sworn Megaton had finally erupted and I was burning to death. After every one of them, I was afraid to open my eyes in case I had been dreaming. I would come to with his large hands on me, cupping my face through my aftershocks and I never thought he could handle anything like it was delicate. Like he was trying to convince himself this was real, too.

When I was in the vault, I read tons of books on romance filled with clichés on what love was and how to say I love you. But this. This was better than words and tidy phrases. This said everything I wanted to say so that he had no room to doubt the truth of it.

Words had never been our strong point, anyway. We screamed through our actions. He had been willing to sacrifice his life to give water to the Capital Wasteland to tell me he loved me, and I brought down the Enclave for making him to show my affection. As I looked into his eyes then, atop all of the passion, I realized love was like this: powerful. If in the beginning of our love we could save lives, I shuddered at what our love could do now. As the humidity cradled us-we and not he and I-I knew together we could save the wastes. Grow from these ashes, break into blossom.

A/N: The last three words are from one of my favorite poems of all time, "A Blessing" by James Wright. It was that poem that kept me inspired long enough to write this, so I figure it was only fitting I pay homage.


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